Prayer of the Children
by Kiriana Starfire
Summary: Song-fic about a slave boy in Carthak. (I think I'm obsessed with Carthak for some reason) Pretty sad, the song is one we're doing in Vocal Music. It's my fist song-fic. Enjoy! Please r/r


**A/N** We're doing this song in my vocal class, and I got the idea for a story about a slave boy wishing for deliverance from his life. This story is about the thoughts running through his head when he's trying to sleep one night. It's really sad, and now that I'm done writing it, I think I'm gonna go have myself a good cry. I have no idea why, but I am. 

Prayer of the Children

_Can you hear the prayer of the children_

_On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?_

_Empty eyes with no more tears to cry_

_Turning heavenward toward the light._

Aldai rolled over and looked towards the ventilation window in the great common sleeping room of the Carthaki slaves. He blinked as he saw the moon, just a sliver of her, through the crack. The boy tried to adjust himself so that he could better see her and winced in pain. He had been whipped that day, and the cuts stung like crazy still. He had learned to work through the pain, but he still had to wonder what it would be like to go through a day, just one day, without feeling any pain at all.

Aldai had been a slave all his life, all twelve years. He had been born to a concubine in the Carthaki palace and had started slave work almost as soon as he could work. His dream, his prayer, was to be free. It was all he ever wished for in life. There surely had to be something better than the life he was living. He had to fight for his food like a mongrel dog, except mongrel dogs were treated better than slaves were in the palace. 

He sighed and watched the moon and began to move his lips silently.

_Cryin' Who will help me _

_To see the mornin' light of one more day,_

_But if I should die before I wake, _

_I pray my soul to take._

Aldai prayed to the Goddess every night. He prayed to whatever gods would listen to a boy slave's prayers. He prayed for them to send someone to free him of his hellish world. Sometimes he even begged the Black God to come and take him to his kingdom. No one ever answered though, Aldai didn't think they ever would.

C_an you feel the hearts of the children_

_Aching for home, for something of their very own?_

_Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto,_

_But hope for a better day, a better day._

Aldai blinked back tears. He thought he had cried them all away, but they still came at nights when everyone else was asleep. He sometimes wondered had everyone else given up hope that they would someday be free? Or did they still hope because that hope was the only thing keeping them alive? 

_Cryin' Who will help me_

_To feel the love again in my own land,_

_But if unknown roads lead away from home,_

_Give me loving arms, away from harm._

The boy remembered his mother, before she had been sold. She had held him in the nursery sometimes. She rocked him and tried to comfort him when he had seen her come back to her nursery beaten. She had shown him love, she had given him a sense of worth, though she was only a worthless slave herself.

But she was gone now, and Aldai was on his own. He had no idea where to turn for help, and no one offered it, so he turned to himself and to his prayers. He still clung to the hope that he would someday runaway from Carthak, maybe he would go to Tortall. Anything would be better than Carthak slave labor. 

_Can you hear the voice of the children_

_Softly pleading for silence in their shattered world?_

_Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,_

_Blood of the innocent on their hands._

Aldai recalled how vast Carthak's army was. Ozorne was preparing for a war to take over the entire world. Everyone knew it, but no one said a word. The emperor had steadily attacked his enemies, trying to wear them down or get an advantage. He was most interested in the northern neighbor, Tortall. 

Aldai knew what a war would be like, devastating. And not just for the lands and warriors who had to fight. Some slaves would be sent to fight, too, just as a wearing down force. He wished that it wouldn't happen. He could already hear the twang of the crossbows and the screams of the wounded. Aldai had been to at least on Carthaki warrior tournament. Carthaki warriors were ruthless when it came to the tournaments; they killed each other. Aldai shuddered at the memory, wishing that his mind would silence itself.

_Cryin' Who will help me _

_To feel the sun again upon my face?_

_For when darkness clears,_

_I know you're near, bringing peace again._

Aldai sighed and rolled over. Tomorrow he would wake up a slave; he would do a slaves work; he would live a slaves life. Come war or no war; come a new road or the one he already walked; come death or life; he was a slave. But he kept a seed of hope deep within his heart, where no one but he could find it, that someday the darkness of his life would leave and he would feel the joyous dawn of freedom.

_Dali cuje te sve djeeje molitve?_

_Can you head the prayer of the children?_

**Disclaimer** The Lands of Carthak and Tortall belong to Tamora Pierce as does the character Ozorne, who is mentioned in this piece. The song "Prayer of the Children" is by Kurt Bestor and was arranged by Andrea S. Klouse. The Pinnacle Group published it in 1995. No infringement is intended by this piece.


End file.
